


Loyalty

by Morgane (smilla840)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton was a SHIELD agent first, M/M, Steve's Pov, Vague spoilers for the AOS's pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Steve wished Barton would just quit SHIELD and become an Avenger full time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> I love fics where the Avengers move in together and become one big happy family, but I wanted to try something different. So here Clint is still very much a SHIELD agent and that causes some friction. Thanks to silentflux for the read-through when I was freaking out about Steve’s characterisation!
> 
> Extremely vague spoilers for the _Agents of SHIELD_ pilot.

If Steve was completely honest with himself, Barton’s and Romanoff’s continued allegiance to SHIELD was a constant pain in the ass. 

He could understand loyalty – respect it, even – but it didn’t change the fact that he would have been a lot happier if they just severed their ties with the organisation once and for all. The heart of the matter was, Steve didn’t trust SHIELD. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, and in the year since the battle of New York, his opinion hadn’t improved much. If anything, finding out a few months ago that Fury had lied about Agent Coulson’s death had only made it worse.

He didn’t hold it against Barton and Romanoff. Steve understood orders, and while it had rankled that they had known about the deception all along, he didn’t blame them. This early on in their partnership they hadn’t owed him a thing – or Stark, no matter what the man’s wounded feelings may otherwise imply. Decisions had been made on a professional level, and Steve could hardly claim any sort of bond with Coulson that would have entitled him to the truth on a personal one. He had barely known the man at the time of his ‘death’, and yes, he had grieved for him, but Steve was self-aware enough to acknowledge that most of that pain had been spill-over from losing so many others.

Months later, things had settled down, resentment swept aside to make way for teamwork, and Steve had the feeling they were slowly building something good, something that worked, their interactions getting smoother with each deployment. But Barton and Romanoff were still going on ops with SHIELD – though not together nor at the same time, a compromise so the Avengers wouldn’t be down two team members if they were needed –, and it was starting to grate on Steve. How was he supposed to work out strategies if at any moment he could find himself without a major player?

Twice already, the Avengers had had to assemble without Hawkeye. Granted, they hadn’t really needed him the first time – had barely needed any of them, in fact. And while things would have been over a lot quicker had Barton been there the second time, he had made it back fast enough to help turn the tide, everything working out fine in the end. Still, Steve hadn’t been happy about it.

Then there were the injuries. No op was ever safe, and more than once Barton and Romanoff had ended up in Medical after a SHIELD job gone south. It was usually just cuts and bruises, nothing too serious, but Steve worried all the same. It was in his nature. 

So when he heard Barton was in Medical with a broken ankle that would keep him off duty for at least two months, he decided he had had enough.

He knew he should have given himself some time to cool off before he even made it to Fury’s office. He had never dealt very well with teammates getting hurt, and it was worse now, for obvious reasons. He had to try very hard not to take it out on them – no one on the team would thank him for being overprotective –, but he still felt responsible for all of them and the guilt was always worse when he hadn’t been there to watch their back.

He hadn’t been there to watch Clint’s.

He ignored Fury’s secretary telling to _wait one second_ and barged in without knocking.

“I want Hawkeye off SHIELD’s roster.”

Fury looked up slowly from the file he had been perusing at Steve’s entrance, phone still jammed against his ear. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said and hung up, looking rather unimpressed by the intrusion.

Steve stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s okay, Mrs Miller.” Fury waved his secretary – along with her rather large gun – away, and she retreated back to her desk. “Captain Rogers, please take a seat. You were saying?”

“I want Hawkeye off SHIELD’s roster,” Steve repeated, knowing full well the man had heard him the first time – and he certainly did not sit. Fury liked to play his games, but Steve wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “He’s an Avenger, he should be going on Avengers ops, not SHIELD’s. Now he’s hurt, and we’re down one team member.”

Fury sat back in his chair, his expression somewhere between annoyed and amused. Not for the first time Steve realised he had no idea what the man was truly feeling – one more reason why he just didn’t trust him.

“Captain Rogers, do I come into your place of business and tell you how to do your job?” he asked, and Steve didn’t really have to think long about that one.

“Yeah, you kinda do,” he shot back.

Fury inclined his head with a slight smile. “Fair enough.” 

“Good. Glad we have an agreement.”

“Oh but we don’t,” he said, sharper now, and Steve’s eyes narrowed.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the one asking, and Barton can make his own decisions. Have him come to me if he wants off SHIELD ops – though I doubt that very much.”

“You’re so sure he’d choose SHIELD?” Steve asked, unable to stop scepticism from colouring his tone, and Fury looked back at him steadily without answering. 

Steve’s protective instincts kicked in. 

“What do you have on him?” he asked, slamming his hands on the desk as he leaned forward, looming over Fury.

Who laughed in his face.

“Get the hell out of my office,” he said, still chuckling, and turned his attention back to the file in front of him, making a show of ignoring him.

Steve hesitated, but his gut told him he wasn’t going to accomplish anything here.

He had to talk to Barton.

 

Steve went straight to Medical from Fury’s office, jogging down the five flights of stairs. A nurse pointed him in the direction of Barton’s room with a half-fond half-exasperated look on her face, and Steve made his way over with no hesitation. But then he got to the door and stopped, hand frozen mid-air before he could knock as he took in the scene inside.

He hadn’t expected Barton to have company, but he had, a handful of SHIELD agents surrounding him. Steve recognised Agent Romanoff, of course, and Coulson, but he didn’t know the others, though one or two looked vaguely familiar. Steve would have expected Barton to be uncomfortable with all the attention, but instead he seemed perfectly at ease, grinning at everyone. He said something that made the room burst into laughter, and Steve… Well, Steve didn’t know what to think.

He didn’t know this Barton, the one who laughed and told jokes to a room full of people. The Barton Steve saw on Avengers ops mostly kept to himself. He rarely said anything that wasn’t mission-related and didn’t socialise with the team unless Agent Romanoff had agreed to it first. He and Stark got along like oil and water, but Steve had always found it comforting to have another ex-military man on the team, someone who could be trusted to follow orders without turning it into a debate or disappearing in the middle of a fight with no warning. 

He hadn’t thought to consider maybe _that_ Barton wasn’t all there was to the man.

Hovering in the doorway, Steve started to think this had been a bad idea. Of course that was when Barton spotted him.

“Hey, Cap,” he called out, waving him in, and Steve pushed the door open, nodding tightly at the room at large.

“Barton. How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good.” The awkward beat of silence that followed made Steve like an intruder. “Do you think I could have a moment?”

Barton looked at the others and shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s about time this lot went back to work anyway.”

“Hey, screw you,” someone called out and Barton grinned again, flipping off whoever had spoken. But the room did empty to the sound of well wishes, Coulson lingering by Barton’s side having some sort of silent conversation until the man shooed him out.

“So what can I do for you?” Barton asked once they were alone, Steve standing almost at attention at the foot of the bed. 

He wasn’t quite sure where to start, so he decided to just jump right into it. “Why are you still going on ops with SHIELD?” he asked, and Barton looked taken aback by the question.

“Because I’m a SHIELD agent?”

“But you’re also an Avenger,” Steve pressed with renewed stubbornness. “Surely that counts for something?”

Barton frowned. “Of course it does, you know that.” He stopped and peered at Steve thoughtfully. It wasn’t entirely comfortable – Barton always made you feel like he was looking right into your very soul – but Steve was getting used to it. “Look, Cap, what is this really about?”

“Is Fury blackmailing you into staying at SHIELD?”

Barton laughed – really, what was it with people laughing in Steve’s face whenever he asked that question? – before stopping short when he realised Steve wasn’t joking. 

“No! Jesus, Steve…” He shifted on the bed, trying to push himself upright to look at Steve full on. “Could you sit down?”

Steve moved to a chair and sat stiffly, Barton nodding his thanks before continuing: “I get that you and Fury didn’t get off to a great start, so I can’t really blame you for going there, but no. Just no.”

“Then why?” Steve asked, hating the incomprehension in his voice. This century – _these people_ – they made him feel so very young sometimes.

Barton rubbed his face tiredly. There wasn’t much of the laughing man from five minutes ago in him now, and Steve suddenly felt sorry for making him go away. 

“We’ve deployed what? Six, seven times in the past year? I’m not like Stark or Banner – or even you. I’ve got nothing else to keep myself busy. I can’t just train all day and sit on my ass the rest of the time, waiting for us to be needed.”

Steve nodded. That he understood. “I’m not asking you to do nothing at all. I’m sure Tony could –”

“No,” Barton said sharply before deflating with a sigh. “Look, I know you don’t agree but what SHIELD does, it’s important. Not everything is about alien invasions or giant lizards. There are a lot of other things out there that people need to be protected from, and we’re – _I’m_ – good at it.”

Steve opened his mouth to say that he knew all that – and he did, really. As much as he often wished he could still live his life in black and white, there were too many shades of grey in this brave new world, and Steve had to adapt to it. The first step was to admit that as much as he would like to believe SHIELD was all about intrigue and weapons of mass destruction, it was more than that. Had to be, with its people.

Barton shook his head, forestalling his interruption: “I like my job. I really do. But I get that it’s not convenient for you. If you want me off the team–”

“What? No!” Steve said, horrified. “Wait. Do _you_ want off the team?”

“No, I don’t. I’m just saying, I would understand if –”

“No,” Steve stated firmly.

“Okay.”

Another awkward silence, and then:

“I’m not asking you to choose,” Steve said. He had set out to do just that, but he could see now he wouldn’t like the outcome – even if he did get his way. 

“Thanks,” Barton said, and he did sound relieved, which helped a little with the sudden slump in Steve’s shoulders.

With nothing more to say, Steve found himself staring at his hands, wondering if he should leave, when Barton started talking again, his tone light and almost conversational.

“I’ve been with SHIELD for almost fifteen years.” 

Steve looked up at that – he forgot, sometimes, that most of his teammates were much older than him – but Barton wasn’t watching him, his eyes on the door instead.

“Yes, I know,” Steve said, wondering where this was going and yet unwilling to ask in case it made him close off again. Barton never volunteered personal information – what little Steve knew came from his heavily redacted file – and he had hoped it would change in time. 

He shouldn’t have worried though because the man went on as if Steve had never spoken.

“They gave me a job when the military kicked me out for fucking the wrong gender. Said they didn’t care one way or another and actually meant it. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t showed up out of the blue one day – probably nothing good. But they gave me a purpose, gave me a life I could be proud of. Those agents you just saw? They’re family. I wouldn’t have made it without them after everything that’s happened, everything I– Loki made me do.”

Clint looked away from the door and finally met Steve’s eyes. “You probably don’t know this, but the first time Fury offered me a spot on the Avengers, I turned him down. I think they had just found you in the ice, back when Fury first knew his crazy idea might actually have a shot. But I couldn’t leave my friends behind just because something bigger and better had come along. Because the thing is, they _would_ have told me to go. But I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had. It’s just not who I am.”

“You’re lucky,” Steve said softly, almost despite himself. He had had that too not too long ago – seventy-years ago –, and he would give anything to have it back. But he couldn’t, and in that moment he was envious of what Barton had.

But then Clint smiled, just as soft, and Steve felt his jealousy melt away.

“I am.”

“So what changed?” Steve asked, wanting to know the end of the story, and Clint shrugged.

“Loki. There was no way I was staying behind for that fight. And then we were a team, and a good one, so I figured I could have both. But I get that you guys are counting on me and that I’m letting you down –”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but Clint held a hand up, stopping him short.

“So I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I try to stick to ops on this side of the world, that way if you need me and the mission isn’t critical I can be there quickly. And we look into getting more people on the team.”

Steve frowned, unsure how they had gotten from one to the other – the point certainly hadn’t been to make Clint more superfluous.

“Hey, you have the whole supersoldier thing going on, and it takes a lot to hurt Banner and Thor, but Nat and I, we’re humans,” Clint pointed out as if reading his mind. “We’re going to get benched every now and then, possibly at the same time – Stark too, as much as he likes to think he’s invincible in that suit of his. We might as well start looking for new blood now so we’ll have options if it happens.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I see your point. We can talk about it when you get out of here.”

“Sounds good.”

The conversation over, Steve stood and hesitated for a second or two.

“I’m glad we talked,” he finally admitted with a small smile. “I hope you feel better soon.”

He turned to leave and was almost at the door when Barton called him back.

“Steve? I know as far as first impressions go, SHIELD didn’t do such a great job, but they’re good people. You should give them another chance.”

Steve nodded and walked out, surprised to find Agent Coulson still waiting outside. For a second he thought the man wanted to speak to him, but Coulson just gave him a perfunctory nod before going back inside. He didn’t close the door behind him – on purpose, no doubt –, and when Steve looked back he saw Coulson had bypassed the chair altogether and was sitting on the bed, Clint’s head on his shoulder. They were holding hands.

Oh.

 

On his way home, Steve realised he felt pretty good about his afternoon. Yes, he hadn’t accomplished what he had set out to do, and he doubted Barton would ever let go of SHIELD completely, but he finally felt like he understood where the man was coming from. Hopefully one day Clint would feel as comfortable with the Avengers as he obviously did with his fellow agents, but until then the afternoon had been a small step in the right direction – or maybe a very big one, considering Barton had allowed him to find out about him and Coulson. Steve was confident they would get there eventually.

As for himself, he didn’t know if he would ever trust SHIELD – though he knew he would probably never see eye to eye with Fury –, but he did trust Barton’s judgement and it would have to do for now.

Turning his thoughts to potential new teammates, Steve found himself daydreaming about abilities that would complement the ones they already had. Wouldn’t it be cool – useful, he meant useful – if they had someone who could turn invisible?

Wait.

How _did_ one find people with the skills needed to be part of a team of superheroes, exactly?

Steve mentally groaned. 

He was suddenly foreseeing a lot more of SHIELD in his future than he had previously expected.


End file.
